Mrs. Gagmore. Certainly not, dear, it would have been quite a calamity. There's the Duchess of Middlesex nodding to you.
Lady S. So it is. (Smiles sweetly at the Duchess, who is sitting three rows off.) I call it scandalous of her to come out like this when both her twins have got the measles. Did I tell you I lent Mr. Spinks my pet parrot, Penelope, for this performance?
Mrs. G. No, dear. I didn't know they ever played it with a parrot.
Lady S. Well, they don't usually, but Mr. Spinks told me that, after studying the piece very very carefully, he had come to the conclusion that there ought to be a parrot in Lady Shorthorn's drawing-room, and he begged me to lend him mine. Fortunately it scarcely ever talks. Oh, there's Mr. Penfold! How old he's getting to look. He never seems to have a good word to say for anyone in his critiques. They're very late in beginning. I hope nothing has happened to Penelope. Ah! at last.
The Orchestra strikes up. After a few minutes the Curtain rises on "the Drawing-room at Bullivant Court." Sc. 1, Act 1. Harry Hall, in livery as John the Footman, is reclining on a sofa, reading a magazine. Penelope, in her cage, is a conspicuous object on the O.P. side.
John (yawning). "Nothink in the Fortnightly, as per usual. Heigh-ho! This is slow work. Who's that?"
Enter Belinda, the Nursery-maid. The usual amatory scene follows. They both disappear, as Tiffington Spinks enters made up as "Colonel Debenham," with a saffron complexion, a grey moustache, a red tie and an iron-grey wig. He shivers. A great deal of preliminary applause. He bows with dignity, conscious of his fame, and proceeds.
Col. Debenham. "Ugh! how horribly cold this is. I shall have to speak seriously to Shorthorn about the state of his fires."
Penelope the Parrot (suddenly and with terrible distinctness). "Old fool!" [A titter from the irreverent. Spinks pays no heed to the interruption.
Lady Surbiton. How awful! I declare I haven't heard Penelope speak for six months. I hope to heaven she won't do it again.